ANACREONTEA: 38 -- p.211
Sing the glad song, and
down the hot wine --
Tell us about Bacchus, who invented
dancing cheek to cheek,
Author of all the poems;
He who discovered
white nights and blue mornings,
Who taught us style --
Forget the hangover,
the wrecked liver,
Tell the boy who swings his hips
to bring me a straight scotch.
Sadness drops to the floor, and
mingles with the dust:
both are swept away.
So let's drink, and to
hell with tomorrow.
Who knows the future? It's all
a muddy dream.
I'd hit the bottle, sway to the music
as the lights change, don't care
If whom I dance with is a
flash boy or even a pretty woman.
*****
ANACREONTEA: 36 -- p.209.
If being human you could purchase life, then
I'd grab money with both hands, so when
Death arrived, I'd pass him a bundle and he'd
pass on. But since no one merely human
Can buy out of it, why scream for the moon?
If you have to die anyway, why go to the trouble?
Let me at least down another
drink, and when that's done,
fuck till my brains burst.
*****
ANACREONTEA 29
Hard to love,
hard not to love,
but hardest of all
to lose the one you love.
*****
The Visitor
The sun was marrying the horizon when he came to my door,
A young boy chilled from the rain, eyes blinded
By water caught up in his lashes and lids.
So I took him in, squeezed the wet from his hair,
Drew a careful tissue across both eyes.
Then as we sat by the fire, he reached behind his back,
Drew a dry knife from its hidden sheath:
"Love may be blind, but you
Are hoodwinked worse." And the blow split my heart.
-- Robin Hamilton
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